Star Trek : Movie Land Remixes
by Gojirob
Summary: The heroes and villains of Star Trek meet the heroes and villains of the silver screen.
1. The Real Abjurers

**The Real Abjurers**  
By Rob Morris

Captain's Log: As we approach The Great Barrier, I have managed to help Spock, Bones and Scotty shake off Sybok's influence. Now, the only question is, what do we do if Sybok is wrong and the entity we might find here is hostile?

"Gentlemen, fighting anything that can send out messages this far by mind alone sounds much like an exercise in futility."

"Hell, Jim---imagine Starfleet's reaction, devil or angel, if we came home with the damned thing strapped to the hull!"

"Doctor, even if this being is merely posing as God--its power is by definition immense. Even as a broad outline, your notion of imprisonment is at odds with all logic."

"Maybe not so, sir. Cap'n--I based some raw theories on our encounters with Gorgan, Redjac and their ilk. And whilst we were fetching George and Gracie back in the 20th Century, I had occasion to meet the top man in that era on the subject of non-corporeals. A bit of an egghead, but he gave me some ideas..."

"Get to it Mister Scott. All speed."

* * *

Log: Stashing our surprise packages out of Sybok's site, we watch as he summons his would-be deity. Predictably, all it takes is my questioning his need of a starship to set him off. We run for the packages, while Sybok argues.

"Lightning? But the God Of ShakaRee would never...."

While the entity mocks poor Sybok, we suit up. Scotty offers some last minute advice.

"These puppies are nae phasers! Dinnae cross their beam-paths. That would be...bad."

"Point noted, Mister Scott. Now....."

We emerge from over the hill, the altered phaser rifles hooked directly to portable proton/anti-proton emitters.

".....Lets show this prehistoric bastard how we do things in Starfleet!"

The creature roars its defiance, which only makes my job sweeter.

"No, you may not contain me!"

"Captain---the trap!"

At Spock's cue, I let my beam slack off a bit, and we activate the trap. All but the barest whisper of the thing's energy is contained. Spock cautions us.

"Clear your thoughts! It is likely to try and tempt or control us."

A rumbling in the distance tells me we failed. We all glare at Sybok, who is holding a tin Spock gave him.

"Spock, these marsh-melons are quite good!"

We stare at what emerges from the pit in complete disbelief. At Scotty's suggestion, we do something bad.

"Try rowing your boat up four crossed streams!"

The end result is...messy. When we dig a glazed-over Sybok out of the muck, Bones sarcastically asks him a question.

"Can I take a sample of your brain for analysis?"

"Oh...alright."

Back on Vulcan, we signal Sarek to ready the woodshed.

-----------------------------------------------

"Yes, this is Commander Uhura speakin'. Well, Admiral, I realize that these demon life-vampires are giving you trouble, but we are just sooooo booked up, lately. Try us after we get rid of the ghost of Molor on Q'onos!"

Captain's Log: Not only have our new duties earned us all a reprieve from possible retirement, but I have little doubt that our achievements will benefit future generations.

"Jim! This replicator's not working right."

"Indeed, Captain. Look at the size of this Twinkie."

A green slimy apparition came straight at Kirk.

"Jimmmmmmmmmmm........!!!"

* * *

2364, Approaching Farpoint Station

The Q entity arrogantly strode the Enterprise's deck.

"Blah, Blah, Blah...grievouslysavage ...Blah...commies..."

"Now, Captain?"

"No, Number One. Wait till he's standing directly over the trap, then......."

* * *

I AIN'T FRAID' O' NO....ER, NON-CORPOREAL ENTITY OF ECTOPLASMIC ORIGIN!


	2. Double Assignment Earth

**Double Assignment Earth**  
By Rob Morris

Scotty stared in wonder at the readings. "Cap'n! It's a transporter beam. It's headed from the South Pacific to the United Kingdom."

Kirk shook his head. They had only traveled back to the late 1960's to find out if their previous accident was duplicable. Encountering this, though, added a new wrinkle to things-a huge wrinkle.

"Captain, historical records are clear. Twentieth-Century Earth possessed no such technology."

"Well, Mister Spock, then either it's a pre-Contact alien technology, or someone on Earth had it, and kept quiet about it. Possibly to avoid further escalation of the arms race."

"Aye, Cap'n. Such a gadget would be far more useful as a scalpel than as a bludgeon."

"But to continue Mister Scott's analogy, such a scalpel would only be entrusted to the most expert of 'surgeons.' Someone truly committed to his cause."

"Point taken, Spock. But on the chance it's time-travelers like ourselves...Scotty, can you lock in on that beam, bring the individual here?"

"Cap'n! I'm insulted that you'd even ask such a thing."

As Scotty's hands played over the transporter controls, a figure coalesced. It was a very tall man, powerfully built, but not overly so. The way he was dressed and how he carried himself seemed to those of the twenty-third century like someone had taken everything thought to be elegant and suave in this past era and placed it into one man. The transport complete, he looked around, and spoke.

"A true pity that this, of all of Q's gadgets, chooses to fail in so spectacular a manner. Where am I, may I ask?"

"I am Captain James T. Kirk. The rest--is more than a little complicated. Suffice it to this : We have no desire to hold you here, and you will not be harmed while you are here-you have my word."

"I'll accept that word for now, Captain Kirk, since it's really all I have. But until you choose to release me or I find my own exit from your hospitality, could you at least tell me who this fellow is? He looks like a Three-Dimensional Relief of the Greek God Hephaestus."

"I am Spock, sir. And this is Chief Engineer Scott. You have our names, now. What might your name be?"

Kirk knew the suddenly silent man was already working out an escape, just as Kirk himself would be doing under similar circumstances. Even with Spock in the room, Jim felt that this particular man might actually be able to do it. Kirk walked up to him.

"I'm sorry for this interruption, but Mister Spock just asked you a simple, non-intrusive question. What, then, is your name?"

The visitor spoke the next words with true verve behind them, as though to him, it signaled some sort of beginning.

"The name is Bond...James Bond."


	3. And That Day May Never Come

Summary: The woman who holds the future fate of the galaxy in her hands meets  
a man who likes to make offers...

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And That Day May Never Come  
by **Rob Morris**

NEW YORK CITY, EARLY 1930

Edith Keeler's family accountant was arrogant and a male chauvinist, but he was out to protect her. His locking out, as per her grandfather's will, of her remaining fortune was to make sure that she would live comfortably into her middle and old age. It also placed the future of her charity work into immediate peril. The man before her could alleviate that peril, and more importantly, he could do so any number of times, and he made it clear he wanted nothing in return for it. The only cost would be to her soul.

"Miss Keeler. It is a great pleasure to meet with you. In these sorry times, the small hope offered by places like yours will make all the difference."

Edith could tell that this man, unlike so many of his peers, was not at all impressed with himself, or with his own power. His home was humble, yet it had a lordly grace. The man was powerful enough that he could dispense with looking like or walking like a king, so long as he was a king.

"I will admit, sir that I was greatly surprised to hear of your offer. I had thought my place and my efforts beneath the attention of gentlemen such as yourself."

But if one was not born a king, then he made himself a king in a certain way, and this was in a path strewn with bodies. The only good word about this man was that he more often than not did not seek out conflict. But he did move in a manner so decisive when it came, that those who had thought that a simple punch to his portly stomach would bring him low were only left with time to let their eyes grow wide before the end came.

"I try not to let anything lie beneath my notice, Miss Keeler. My attention was particularly drawn by word of the price that you exact from those you feed and board."

"My price, sir? I merely ask that they hear a few words of hope. A remedy to what you quite properly called these sorry times."

The man gestured in front of his own face with his fingers in a brushing motion.

"I meant no offense, of course. I consider it a price, for that is how I think of these things. But even taken as such, I consider what you ask to be a small price to pay, and also a just and a fair one as well. I took the liberty of having a young man I regard as my own son listen in on one of your speeches. He made notes of what you said, and he also made me aware that it was quite  
stirring."

Edith tried not to show fear. But she had apparently not only drawn this man's attention, she was firmly in his sights, and hadn't even realized it.

"The feeble musings of a girl brought up in too much wealth, sir. Perhaps it gives to me an optimism that those of humbler present means may lack the ability to call upon."

He held up the cashier's check, and now looked a little upset.

"Madame, I have not once insulted you, or your intelligence. Do not insult mine. I am going to ask you to say four or six words. If I do not think that you have said the truth, I will withdraw my offer and shred this check before your eyes. Now, I ask you to say four words if yes, and six words if no. Are you ready?"

Edith was scared, but not for her life or for a donation lost. Could he really know, she wondered?

"Ask."

He held the check as if to tear it.

"You have the gift."

Edith considered the empty stomachs and roofless nights of the worthy and of the worthless. She answered in the only way that had been allowed for her.

"I have the gift."

The check was handed over without another word. Edith put it away, and asked a question of her own.

"How could you know?"

He smiled, looking actually a bit charming as he did.

"My dear lady--how could I not?"

Edith's eyes went a bit wide.

"You?"

He got up from his desk, and walked over to a bucket of ice. He then filled a glass with ice and some simple water.

"They all think of me as this shark who gets others drunk, and keeps dry for himself. But alcohol makes seeing ahead much harder. You start to see what you want to, instead of what you need to.  
I am a good judge of people, and very often, they are all too easy to read. But this helps. At least it helps sometimes. When I was a small boy in Sicily, they said that I was stupid. But I did not speak because I saw, from the moment I could think, how my father, brother, and mother would die. I saw myself, as a grown man, take vengeance on the mongrels that had done these things. Stupid? What words would a boy have for seeing this?"

Edith spoke words she would not even speak to her one great love, a man mere weeks from arriving in her time.

"I was taken and held in a facility for the troubled. During the Great War, when the boys on their way to the front passed in review as they left for the continent, I would shriek uncontrollably. I would see some of them headless, some split in half, eviscerated or choked by gas. I learned after that to use euphemisms when describing the things I will see. My audience at the mission is  
a captive one, and not apt to report me to mental health authorities."

The powerful man drew up water for Edith, as well.

"When you spoke of ships traversing the stars, I knew then. But it always gets vague after that. I see a second moon, except that it is square and made of wires and steel. I see men made of pudding, but they pose as people like ourselves. At times I even see the Beast Of Revelations. Even that makes no sense, for in these visions, the Great Beast is just some large cannon that someone built and forgot about. I can see it in your eyes, Miss Keeler. You have seen the same or something like it. You have seen the boy and girl, and how they suffer."

"Sir--is there something more you wish of me?"

He nodded. As he kept on speaking, his accent lessened and the natural huskiness of his voice broke somewhat.

"I have learned that no one with the gift may see that much of the fate that surrounds them. I would ask that we make readings of one another, while understanding that ours is not a precise art. I will not be angry with you, if you are wrong, and I expect the same courtesy back again."

Edith was both relieved and put off. While she could be open at last about her gift, to share it with this particular man was no great comfort.

"I must warn you, sir. My reading of business matters--or the actions of potential business rivals-- has proven to be very poor."

"For my business concerns, I ask nothing of you, Miss Keeler. In fact, if you told me that you could predict what my rivals might do, then I would know you to be a liar. For you see, when business such as ours begins to transact, the most gifted reader on Earth would be of no use. Things--they just start to happen, then."

If her host were talking down to Keeler, she found that she had no desire whatsoever to have him talk plainly, as it concerned any business he might have. She readied herself.

"Ask what you will."

He did just that, starting with one of a handful of things all people would ask, if only they could.

"How will I die?"

Edith imagined an exquisite silken curtain was in her hands, luxuriant to the touch yet at the same time best left untouched, for the most part, even as she pulled it aside.

"While tending your garden and calling out to a misbehaving grandchild."

The man's smile was much fuller now.

"Really? I mean, that's it?"

He sat down, looking like a man given a reprieve instead of the news of his end.

"I could never have imagined. Peace. There would have to be peace for that to happen. I will see peace. Dear lady, I thank you. Now, let me ask next? Who will be the head of my family, after I am gone?"

Edith saw an image of God's Chief Archangel fighting with Lucifer. But the image became badly jumbled, and she suddenly could not tell who was who.

"Michael?"

From near-ecstasy, Edith's host moved to a look of purest rage, clearing his desk in one angry motion, slamming his hand down while roaring.

"THAT IS IMPOSSIBLE! I WOULD NEVER IN A MILLION YEARS ALLOW HIM TO GET PULLED IN TO ALL THIS!!! HOW CAN YOU SAY SUCH A THING?"

Edith was shaking, and she could not be at all certain she hadn't soiled herself. Her host seemed equally horrified. By all accounts a brutal man when he needed to be, he also prided himself as a gentleman, even when he was shown disrespect, something Keeler had not done. He wiped himself off, drank more water, and then presented Edith with a second check he'd had ready for reasons only he knew.

"I broke my promise to you. Usually, my word is my bond. Let this be my penance. Please?"

Edith took it, and put it away with the other, but not before sweat stains were visible on the paper.

"Sir--I think that I should leave."

"I understand. But first, let me tell you of what I see for you."

"I---I--please do. And then I must go."

Gently and with tenderness, he took her hand.

"Governor Roosevelt will become our next President. I see you talking with him, spreading your ideas of charity and stopping our country's involvement in another European war. Your life will affect many, many millions in ways we cannot imagine. Also, you will soon meet a man as no other, and you will fall in love. He will be there as your destiny takes hold of you, and he will ensure that it does. I believe his name is Jacob Church, but I am not sure. He will one day have fine children of a great standing, but I do not know if they are yours and his. Now, my dear. Depart and do what you must. Peace is a great thing, and never greater than when the time for it is right."

Her host then kissed Edith on each cheek, tenderly but not in a lewd or predatory way. He seemed sad, and to truly regret his outburst. After stopping for cake and coffee with his wife, Edith left and her host returned to his office. Soon he was joined by one of his employees, a gaunt man who was not as old as he looked, his stature and dignity aside.

"Why her?"

"Are you refusing to do it?"

"Sir, you have to know I would never refuse or betray you."

The man looked out at the night sky. It was a sky whose future would soon lose one of its best prophets.

"I know that you would never refuse me, Sal. But why would you object to what I ask?"

Sal shook his head.

"Her mission does good work. Last year, my cousin's family would have starved, if not for Edith Keeler. Sir, so many socialite phonies are out there. She's for real. Has she insulted you?"

"No. See, Sal? It's a rotten world, and she's too good to live in it without making it worse. But don't make her suffer, and more so than usual, make it look like it was an accident. The mission will continue its work, and under her name. This I swear."

Grimly, Sal nodded, and realized he would have to map out this poor dear woman's travel patterns, the better to stage the 'accident' that even his employer seemed not to truly want.

"It will be as you say, Don Corleone."


	4. Mister Data's StepSisters

Mister Data's Step-Sisters  
by Rob Morris

Trying to get his mind off recent events with Spock and Sela, Picard decided to make use of his time aboard the Klingon ship by doing what many on the Enterprise avoided-making small talk with Data. He saw him studying a readout of cybernetic schematics laid out in a humanoid form.

"Data, is it an android?"

Data shook his head.

"No, sir. There are only 506 known types of androids or like mechanisms registered and or speculated upon. These historical files recently recovered indicate none of these. On the bright side, I am now more fully aware of my roots and history."

Picard, bored out of his mind, bid his Second Officer continue.

"You mean like Doctor Soong's somewhat illegal visits to Exo 3 and Mudd's World?"

"Far more than that, sir. I have even discovered limited human facsimile androids present as early as Earth's late 20th Century."

Now, Picard took active notice.

"How limited are we talking? And why was this never heard of before?"

Data appeared to grow trepidatious.

"They were female in design, sir. Intended to provide certain males with a form of unquestioning comfort. A renegade scientist once employed by that era's Cybernetic Enhancement Intelligence service was divorced by his wife. Despondent, he came to a small town in the American state of Connecticut. Using the technology later used to enhance a celebrated astronaut, he reconstructed her from whole cloth, so to speak. Unlike Doctor Soong's post-mortem efforts toward my mother, this man chose only to recreate his ex-wife's appearance and voice."

Picard drew the inference.

"Pathetic. I've never understood the need some have for a submissive partner. We all play parts--but for the sole purpose of pumping your ego? He may as well have ordered himself an inflatable companion, for all that was worth."

For Data, who was very nearly dissected so that a race of worker drones could be built, these words were welcome indeed.

"Yes, sir. But unfortunately, he also encountered many like-minded men in this town. A grand conspiracy eventually grew up, murdering the wives of the town, and replacing them with these quite literally soulless, life-like constructs. Only one woman ever raised a true alarm. But she too was replaced."

"So these cowards and lowlifes won the day?"

"For the immediate future, Captain. But in early 2000, this town was found and sealed off. Quite carefully--it was removed from the map, and its technology all magnetically wiped. Having been a closed community for decades, no one had known of its secret. Only a combination of archaeology and declassification yielded this sorry matter up to present-day scrutiny."

"Data? By that point--who was left in that comfortable-looking hell-hole?"

Struck by how often Picard let him continue these tangents, Data felt he now had better insight into Spock's legendary friendship with Kirk, touched briefly on when they met the Ambassador.

"Only the town fathers, sir. Eventually, the murderous scheme extended to claim a great many of the children, as teenage rebellion became a target of this regime. But their day at long last came around. They suffered a fate the report referred to as 'Bobbittizing'. I later found out that this was a euphemism for...."

Picard cut him off.

"I'm...familiar with that euphemism, Data. Jack, rest his soul, once explained it to me. But if the androids had no real personalities--how did they rebel?"

"To be precise, sir, they did not. To rebel, they would had to have been far more than what they were. It was in fact the very limits of their programming that destroyed the conspirators. Recall the date of their final fall."

Picard winced. That date had been one of many 'apocalyptic' ones that came and went in that era, finally ending after 2033. Picard imagined that even the deeply religious must have been tired of them at that point.

"You mean to say that the androids' systems were non-updateable?"

"Indeed. So it was that something that came to be a non-event for the rest of the world destroyed the corrupt town of Stepford. They had very well and truly insulated themselves against the harsh changes of feminism, sexual openness, and economic globalization."

Picard smiled, as awkward as the described fate made him feel.

"But not against Y2K." 


	5. The Adverts

A piece of dated humor, based on a ten-year-old commercial for KFC/Taco Bell/Pizza Hut tying in with 'The Phantom Menace'

The Adverts

by Rob Morris

( We see the Bajoran Embassy on Earth. It is some years after the Dominion War. There is a large, proud statue of Benjamin Sisko )

Message : This is Planet Naboo! We are under assault!

( Sisko's statue comes to life. He transports onto the Defiant, and goes off at warp speed )

( We see Janeway dealing with yet another Voy-type situation. )

Message : This Is Planet Naboo....

( She runs for the Delta Flyer, and briefly risks Warp Ten, without ill effects. Sisko transports her aboard Defiant )

Janeway : Punch it.

( They make for Veridian III. A pile of rocks bursts out, revealing a revived Kirk. They transport him aboard Defiant )

Kirk : Let's Do This.

( They warp into the Star Wars Universe )

Luke Skywalker : Uh, Thanks. But you have to realize, my mother's message is now several decades old.

Sisko : Then our work here is done.

( They warp back )

Luke : Spare me, Force!

( Then, in the chamber, offering their help, are Connor, Duncan, and Quentin Macleod - The Highlanders )

Luke : It's just gonna be that kind of day, isn't it?

( Back in the ST U )

Kirk : Anyone for Chinese?


End file.
